A Friendly Wager
by green see-through ghosts
Summary: What kind of weirdo was actually psycho enough to hit on her? Well, no kind, but that didn't actually end up being the main point. AU, crack, hockey, Hidan, and Temari.
1. Mumble, Mumble

Inspired by a random thought of mine that went something like, "It's sort of depressing that many of my male-hockey-playing friends and cuss worse than Hidan when they're on the ice..." (Or worse, when they're forced OFF the ice.) And let's just say that hockey is a big part of my life, k?

**A Friendly Wager**

by **green see-through ghosts**

WARNING: **Bad Language** up ahead. Also a bit of **male-hockey player bashing**. (Don't worry, I still love you, Caleb! (and the others, but they won't read this, hmmm?)

AN: This might be the last complete Hidan/Temari for a bit, for many reasons, but mostly because I hate beating a pairing to death...which is possibly what I'm doing with this one.

* * *

"Yes!" Temari hissed, her hands clenched around the gray-painted iron railing so hard that her fingers were white with the pressure. "That's it -- NO! SKATE! Ha-**ha**-_ha_! Way to go GOALIE!"

The oddly-energetic blonde slapped her palms against the rail as a shrill whistle sounded, turning to look at her brother as a mirthful grin shot across her face. "Did you see that save?!" she shouted to one in particular, unable to contain her joy.

The two siblings stood together at the pole on the edge of the lower balcony of the huge and nearly empty ice-hockey arena. The wide rows of bleachers behind them were spotted with various family members of the two bantam teams currently playing, but most of the hard-core fans, such as Temari and her brother Kankuro, were standing in the front in order to get the best view of the two teams skating the ice below.

"Yes, Temari," Kankuro sighed in a dull tone. He was leaning forward with his elbows against the rail, curly brown hair mused and sharp black eyes rimmed with red moisture. "I saw that save." Still, Temari wasn't so sure; her brother had been staring at the group of girls down by the boards for a long time, and even that lacked his full attention. Anyways, with the mood he was in, she somehow doubted that he even really cared about the outcome of this game.

"Listen," he sighed. "I think I'm going to go sit down, okay? I'm not feeling so great."

"Okay," Temari said after a long moment. "Just, you know, watch. For Gaara, okay?"

"I know, I know," Kankuro exhaled as he turned away, pulling his black hood up over his hair. Unlike Temari, he had no interest in hockey, but for the sake of his little brother, he'd watch. "I'll sit up at the top."

"M'kay," Temari said. "I'm going to stand behind Gaara, then." Kankuro didn't respond, so, with a low sigh, Temari turned away from the pole and made her way across the wide, cement platform, down the slippery stairs, and onto the rink-level. The twenty-two year old was wearing blue jeans, a knit hockey hat pulled over her coarse blonde hair, and a black sweatshirt, over which was her little brother's away-jersey. It smelled like the locker room, and the bright green trim clashed with her teal eyes, but she'd looked worse before.

Temari parked herself behind the goalie of the white-jersey team. He didn't acknowledge her, but then again, she didn't expect him to. A good goalie never acknowledged his fans, no matter how much he needed them. Temari could stand there for years -- and would, probably, if Gaara's hockey career went anywhere -- and still, the boy would never give her more than a nod.

The music playing through the loudspeakers was grainy and digitalized, but she could faintly recognize it as something by Three Days Grace. God knows she heard enough of it at home and in her own locker room; she should have been able to recognize it more easily. But for some reason, things always seemed disconnected whenever she watched Gaara play; it was as if he stole the connectivity of other aspects of the arena and used them in his own movement. One thing was for sure, and that was that Gaara was a wall that no puck could ever pass. If his stats were anything, it was perfect.

The puck dropped, and the crappy music shut off abruptly, giving way to the ricochet of the puck against sticks and the boards. Temari pressed herself close against the glass, her fingers locked in an upside-down steeple; it was a calming habit that a close friend and teammate had taught her after watching how she nearly hyperventilated during her little brother's games. The motion really did help, if she could keep her mind calm enough to put it into action.

Put Temari on the ice with a stick and some gear, and she'd be fine -- great, in fact. During high school, she'd had a reputation for being an absolute beast, taking out guys and girls alike. Only one thing scared her when she was playing, and that was the idea of losing. But stick her behind her little brother's net, helpless to do anything but support him telepathically, and she'd just about lose her mind.

Gaara's team, the Tanukis, were in control of the puck, but it was an extremely close game, made obvious by the zero-zero score in burning crimson letters at either end of the rink. Still, it was only the middle of the first period; they had plenty of time to score.

Smart and steady, Temari whispered to herself. They just need to play smart.

A blue jersey caught hold of the puck and slapped it down Gaara's way in a desperate attempt to clear his zone; it was an easy icing call. Gaara lifted his stick up in the air in signal to the referees as he moved out to collect the puck; as one of the three refs blew his whistle, he tapped the black rubber cylinder over to the striped-jersey man before skating back to his net. Temari avoided make eye-contact with him; Gaara was in his zone, and didn't need her to shake him out of it.

Not that she was delusional enough to think that she could.

The game continued. The arena was filled with the sounds of the puck slapping the boards, players crashing into one another and the ice, and the ever-so-often blow of a whistle. In the grand scheme of things, this game was pretty insignificant. But Temari knew that even one loss -- hell, even one _goal_-- would set Gaara down a road better left un-traveled. And indeed, she hated to see her brother depressed. So, despite the unimportance of this particular match, she watched raptly, her eyes locked on the puck's swift and jolty movement across the ice.

Needless to say, she was more than a little out of the general flow of life. Life for her was the game before her eyes -- indeed, the very world of hockey. So when a hand came down hard on her shoulder, fingers grasping her jersey with unnecessary roughness, she was a bit surprised.

Okay, so she was startled out of her mind and, subsequently, the game.

Not the kind to use words when force would do, Temari spun around, hand already clenching into a fist.

"Hey, do you know where the hell locker room sixteen is? These shit-heads have been looking for it for like, ten fucking minutes."

Temari glared at the young man standing in front of her, eyeing him doubtfully. For sure, he had a hockey bag slung over his shoulder, and yes, he _was _wearing black and red warm-ups, but this guy looked about the furthest thing from a hockey player that she had ever seen. Maybe it was the fact that his silvery white hair, which was at total odds with his extremely young face, was slicked back at the hairline, combed straight away from his high, peaked forehead. Or maybe it was the color of his eyes -- lavender? Who the hell had lavender eyes? Maybe it was simply that his face was different than the face of any other hockey guy she'd seen -- a bit refined, dare she say delicate?

"Back outside, take a left, down four doors," Temari said. "Even an idiot couldn't miss it."

"Like I said, these guys are shit-heads," the guy said. Temari's eyes narrowed; he was entirely oblivious to the insult she'd poked at him.

"Whatever," she sighed as she turned back around.

"Hey, thanks," the guy called as he turned away, heading back towards his teammates.

"Whatever," Temari muttered again. In less than a moment, she was entirely engrossed in her brother's game again, the interruption passing by as if it have never been.

The first period ended at a score of zero-zero, and the two teams both skated off the rink to make room for the zam. Gaara glanced back at her as he skated off, his helmet pulled away from his face to reveal teal eyes a few shades lighter than her own. He nodded at her, and she returned the gesture, fighting to keep from grinning too big. He'd label her sentimental if she wasn't careful, and as the surrogate mother of two teen boys, the last thing she needed was for Gaara to think she'd gone soft.

Temari turned away from the glass divider and began striding down the cement path towards the main bleachers. She could see Kankuro sitting by himself up near the top, hood up and headphones in his ears. Well, what could she say; the three of them were kind of an antisocial family.

Before she'd made it halfway down the lane, a large group of hockey guys dressed in hellish warm-ups swarmed through the main entrance. With a small sigh of disgust, Temari continued walking, not even taking the trouble to slow her pace. Some guys, mainly hockey players, could be so obliviously rude sometimes…

She'd just managed to reach the stairs unscathed when a cocky, masculine voice called her back.

"Hey, blondie, do you know where the announcer's box is?"

"Are you blind or something?" Temari snapped, spinning around on the bottom stair to come face to face with the silver-haired player. "It's right there." She pointed at the long, narrow tabled set up on the balcony over the rink. It was currently unoccupied, but if there was a big game coming up next, that would soon change.

"Thanks," the man said without following her finger. "What was your name, again?"

"I didn't give one," she snapped. And, without acknowledging that he even spoke, she turned around and continued up the stairs, rolling her eyes.

"You wanna give me one now?" he asked mischievously, following her a short distance up the stairs.

"Get lost, loser," Temari snapped. And, without taking a second glance at him, she continued across the shiny cement, waving at her brother in mock cheerfulness. Not that Kankuro noticed; but, pretending that there was someone you were moving towards -- especially another guy -- was always a good way of getting rid of a weirdo who was actually psycho enough to hit on a beast like her.

--

"Sorry, Boss," Hidan sighed, dropping down in the chair behind the orange-haired captain of his team. "It's a no-fucking-go."

"Damn," the infamous leader of the Akatsuki Men's Twenty and Up Comp Team hissed. He leaned forward against the railing and glared down at the spiky-haired blonde and her black-hooded brother. "I was counting on her for information," he sighed, gray eyes narrowed in intense dislike of the situation. No one bothered asked Pein why he'd picked her, or why he seemed to be so desperate when there were plenty of other Tanuki fans around.

"What about the boy?" asked the manager of the team, a blue-haired and blue-eyed female named Konan. Unlike the team captain, she was entirely calm and, if Hidan hadn't of known any better, seemingly devoid of emotion. Instead of the red and black warm-ups of the men in the reserved seating section above the hockey rink, she wore a knee length black trench-coat over a black shirt and white shirt, her blue hair cut short and tucked behind each ear. Leather boots extended up to her knees, adding a good four inches to her height.

"Too punk-ass," the orange-haired Pein sounded.

"So's the girl," Hidan muttered.

"Damn. And I really need to know who their goalie is." With a deep, languid sigh, the man leaned back in his chair, lips pursed. "Have another go at her, Hidan," he sighed. "We need to know who the Tanuki Comp Team goalie will be for next tomorrow night's game, alright? I heard one of them was injured, but I don't know which."

"Sure-fucking-thing, Boss," the silver-haired Hidan said with a grin. "Although, really, you know, I'm going to have to spend fucking _days _doing rituals to make up for flirting with a heathen." He glanced over at his snickering teammates. "Not to mention having to beating the fucking shit out of _you _guys," he added.

"Just get with it, Hidan," Pein sighed, leaning forward in his chair again as the two bantam teams took the ice.

"What-fucking-ever," Hidan sighed as he jumped to his feet and headed out of the reserved room again. He left a strange scent in his wake -- a smell similar to the sterile-odor of a hospital operating room.

"Konan," Pein said softly after a long moment, tilting his head towards the manager. "Has he been cutting himself _again_?"

"Yes," she said simply.

"Damn," Pein hissed. "I need him in top form tomorrow."

"Don't worry," Konan said coldly, turning away from her leader to watch the silver-haired man approach the blonde one level below. Her sleek profile, outlined against the sharp white walls of the arena, showed a smile curve her lips. "Pain _is _his top form."

--

"Do you mind if I stare at you up close instead of from across the room?"

"What. The. Hell-" Temari snapped, spinning around in her seat to throw the silver-haired hockey player's hands off her shoulders. "-are you doing?"

"Just making a little healthy conversation," he said innocently, hopping over the railing and dropping down on the bleacher beside her. Temari instinctively scooted away; he filled in the gap. "You know, that outfit would look great in a pile beside my bed."

"_What_- who the _hell _are you?!"

"Name's Hidan, blondie. It's what you'll be screaming out in ecstasy come midnight."

--

"You know," Konan said, eyebrows raised as they watched the blonde-haired girl throw a punch in Hidan's direction, her first flashing past his cheek, "I don't think Hidan was a good one to pick if you wanted subtlety."

"I figured he'd know how to flirt well," Pein said with a sigh, wincing as the blonde kneed Hidan in the groin. "I mean, we see him with girls after the games often enough."

"Maybe she's just different than most girls," Konan suggested with a shrug.

"Maybe," Pein agreed, chin in his hand as Hidan ducked under a punch, tumbling back on his heels to avoid her fist.

"Should I send assistance?" Konan asked curiously.

"No," Pein said. "This is far more entertaining than watching the zamboni drive." Konan nodded slowly.

"I'd have to agree with you on that," she said as Temari's fist connected solidly with Hidan's jaw, sending the man flying into the wall.

--

"This spot taken?"

Temari growled under her breath and spun towards Hidan, hands clenched tightly.

"God, you're fucking psychotic!" he complained, stepping quickly away from her. "I just want to stand here!"

"Well, then, yes, that spot is taken," Temari hissed.

"Okay, well, you can tell the invisible fucker standing there to fucking move," Hidan snapped.

"You're annoying," Temari snapped back.

"You're fucking psycho," Hidan retaliated.

"Can you just go stand somewhere else?" Temari barked. "I'm trying to watch the game!" She turned abruptly away from him, shoving her hands inside her pockets as she leaned her forehead up against the glass. After a moment of silence, Hidan glanced over at her, eyebrows raised.

"What the fuck is interesting about this?" he asked confusedly. Temari ground her teeth together in frustration.

"That's my kid brother in net," she growled. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to watch him play, and it'd be even better if you would shut up and stop distracting us."

"_Us_?" Hidan laughed. "Shit, you think you're some counterpart in his mind, or something?

"Look," Temari sighed. "You're _really _annoying me."

"Get over it, blondie," he said cheerfully. "Because I have no immediate plans to fucking leave." And with that, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned sideways against the glass, watching her instead of the game.

Temari ignored him. If it was any time other than during Gaara's game, she would have murdered the guy. But, her brother was more important than any sort pf petty discomfort she experienced.

After a few minutes, she began to notice that this Hidan was muttering under his breath. The words were too indistinct for her to be able to discern what he said, and as far as she could tell, they weren't spoken in a malicious tone. Still, after another five minutes, the constant muttering began to get on her nerves.

"Would you please shut up?" she demanded, turning her head less than an inch to glare at him.

"No-fucking-way," he said, glaring right back at her. Sighing deeply and muttering a few choice words of her own, Temari turned back to the game, the constant rustle of his faint murmuring echoing in her ears. Just ignore him, she told herself. He just wants attention. It's not worth missing Gaara's game…it's not…

With a low sigh, Temari turned away from the boards just moments before the horn blew to signal the end of the second period. No, she told herself as she began moving towards the stairs, away from Hidan. It's _still _not worth it.

"Hey, where you going?" Hidan sighed. "We were just about to get to the good part." Before Temari knew what was happening, he had an arm around her waist and had pulled her around to face the rink again, his side pressed against hers. "This is when-"

"I beat the shit out of you?" she suggested, not even bothering to slide away.

"-you tell me who's in net for the Tanuki game tomorrow night," he finished simultaneously.

"What?" was all Temari could say in blank shock. Fifty feet away from them, the yellow and white zamboni took the ice, leaving a trail of gleaming water shining on the rink behind it.

"Oh, come on," Hidan laughed, tightening his arm around her waist. "As if I'd honestly flirt with you."

"What the he-" Hidan pressed his forearm over her mouth, reaching up with the same hand to wave at the zam driver as he passed by.

"Try to make it look natural, blondie," he muttered. "There's people watching, you know." He sighed deeply, as if she couldn't possibly understand what he was going through. "Look, just tell me who the goalie is, and I'll leave you alone. Got it?" He glanced down at her expectantly just as she reached up and pulled his arm away from her face.

"No, _you _leave me alone or I spill your brains on the ice tomorrow night."

"Oh come on, blondie-…_what_?"

"I said," she repeated, enunciating each word with deadly clarity, "leave. Me. Alone. Or I. Will spill. Your brains. On the ice. Tomorrow. Night."

"…You've got to be fucking kidding me." Hidan stated. "_You're _a Tanuki?"

"Right," Temari confirmed, stepping away from him as he loosened his grip.

"Shit," Hidan muttered under his breath. "Of all the fucking psychos that Pein could pick for information, and he picks a fucking Tanuki."

"Excuse me?" Temari said, leaning a little towards him. "I couldn't quite catch that. It's all the mumbling."

"Come-fucking-on, blondie, just tell me his damn name," Hidan snapped as he stepped forward, gesturing vaguely with his arms.

"Get out of here, looser," she ordered, voice soft and vicious. "I don't trust you enough to tell you my own name, let alone my goalie's."

"What the hell is it with you and goalies?" Hidan snapped.

"They're _only _the most important part of the team" she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. Wondering why she wasn't still itching to leave, Temari turned towards the rink again, leaning her elbows against the outer ledge of the boards. It was as if now that she knew what he really wanted -- well, now that she knew the freak wasn't actually hitting on her -- she was put at ease. The zam finished its first, slow circle around the very edge of the rink and began to speed up on the open ice.

"No-fucking-way," Hidan stated. "It's _all _about the face-off, blondie."

"Are you kidding?" Temari sneered. "Any team would be trashed without a good defense, including yours."

"You'll see tomorrow night," Hidan said, shaking his head in denial as he leaned his elbows against the same ledge her own were on. "Our offense will fucking rip you apart, trust me."

"Would you stop harassing me?" Temari sighed, moving away from him as he bumped his shoulder against hers.

"A defense doesn't do much good if they can't keep up with the offense," he continued. "And trust me, blondie, you won't be able to keep up."

"Is that a challenge?" Temari growled, suddenly dead serious as her eyes narrowed ferociously.

"I don't know, is it?" He laughed at her anger, but remained still even as she moved another few feet away. The girl didn't speak, which wasn't quite to Hidan's liking. "If I'm going to fuck myself," he thought out loud, thinking of the cleansing ritual that his god demanded for this sort pf friendly banter, "I might as well do it thoroughly." The zamboni drove past them again, dropping extra water on the goalie's crease area; goalies were notorious for ripping the ice up more than any other players.

"Why do you keep mumbling?" Temari droned, turning to glare at him as she straightened up.

"None of your damn business," Hidan said with a grin. "So, is it a challenge?" he continued without giving her a chance to really respond.

"Not on my part," Temari said bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest with a shrug. Hidan eyed her carefully out of the corner of his eye, his scheming mind racing. She was acting so damn stoic; if he wanted to get her to agree with something stupid, he'd have to get her riled up first.

And he figured he knew the perfect way to do it.

"Just afraid of losing, aren't you?"

"Whatever," Temari laughed harshly. "I have faith in my team, you know." She eyed him up loosely, sneering at what she saw. "Trust me, we'll win."

"Trust _me_, you won't," Hidan laughed, sliding closer to her along the boards.

"Yes, we will," Temari said firmly.

"Willing to bet on it?" Hidan asked cheerfully, bumping his shoulder against hers. For once, Temari didn't move away.

"Depends on the bet," she said, immediately wary.

"Just a friendly wager," Hidan declared. "If you win, I'll be a bore and leave you alone for good. If I win, you get to come to church with me on Sunday."

Temari turned her head and stared at him blankly.

"…Is that some sort of…perverted innuendo?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"No!" Hidan yelled, jumping into a fully upright position. The zam passed by again, half-way finished with spreading water over the rough ice. "Damn it, blondie, I'm serious!"

"No way," Temari stated. "Church?" She eyed him carefully, then shook her head. "It's gotta be some innuendo."

"I'm fucking insulted," Hidan said, leaning sideways against the glass. "Maybe you're just afraid of spirituality?" The way he said it, Temari could easily have imagined the word sexuality in its place...

"No ," she said, still skeptical. "I just didn't pin you as the type, is all."

"Well trust me, blondie, I am," Hidan said, reaching up with both hands to smooth his hair away from his face; in that one moment, he looked as much like a holy man of the church as Baba Yaga. Temari stared for a moment, then turned away, stifling a sudden laugh. "So, what is it?" he asked, bringing his hands back down and shoving them in the pockets of his black and red jacket. "Deal or no?"

"I don't need to make a deal with you to force you to leave me alone," Temari said without looking at him. She rested her chin against her folded hands, acutely aware of his lavender eyes focused on her face.

"Yeah, cause you've done a fucking fine job of it already," Hidan laughed.

"Look, Hidan, or whatever your name is," she snapped, turning towards him with her eyes narrowed sharply. "I haven't tried real hard yet."

"Prove it," Hidan taunted, a satisfied smirk on his face It's was Temari's turn to hesitate.

"I don't need to," she finally said, turning back towards the rink to watch the zamboni make his final round. She'd been warned by security once already; any other physical altercation might result in her missing the rest of Gaara's game. "And...because I have faith in my team...I'll accept."

"Good fucking deal," Hidan laughed as he clapped her on the shoulder. "Make sure you wear something nice for church."

"Hopefully you've got your eye on someone else to harass."

"Sure thing, blondie."

"It's Temari, okay?"

"Whatever, blondie."

--

"They seem to be getting along now," Konan said softly, stifling a yawn as the younger Tanuki team took the ice, followed a moment later by their opponents. She motioned towards Hidan and the blonde, just tiny figures along the boards of the rink.

"What are you talking about?" Pein growled. "There's enough room for half the team to squeeze in between them."

"But they're still talking," Konan pointed out.

"I guess," Pein admitted with a shrug.

"Let me guess," Konan said with a soft smile at Pein. "_Getting along _constitutes something entirely different to you than to me?"

"You could say that," Pein muttered, winking sidelong at her as he leaned forward on the rail.

--

Hidan had said his goodbyes -- "See you tomorrow, blondie. Okay? Blondie? Oh, come-fucking-on. Fine. _Fine_. See you, _Temari_." -- and was gone by the end of the third period, which was just fine with Temari. The junior Tanuki team won 2-0, and Gaara achieved his tenth shutout of the season. Still, Temari was distracted as she walked around the rink to meet up with the pale Kankuro, who really wasn't looking too great, and remained relatively silent as they met up with Gaara after he'd dressed out.

He was, as usual, good-humouredly emotionless, his quiet and blank stare meaning nothing but his inability to express. His crimson hair was wet with sweat; it dangled over the thirteen-year-old's eyes, which were half a dozen shades lighter than Temari's own teal. Temari pulled the redhead into a hug without asking permission; this way, he never had the chance to say no.

"Did you have fun?" she asked, her chin pressed against the top of his head.

"Yes," Gaara said shortly, allowing her to cradle him for a moment longer before stepping back. His black and silver hockey bag was thrown over one shoulder, green warm-up jacket unzipped far enough to reveal a black tee-shirt to match the black jeans. Temari usually refrained from calling him her little Christmas tree, but it was certainly difficult when he wore the green jacket.

"Good," she said, nodding down at him with a short smile. "Ready to go home?" Gaara nodded once and turned to head down the hall. Though he rarely showed any signs of weakness, there was a certain shuffle to his steps that spoke of exhaustion, and his head was bent forward a bit more than usual. Without speaking, Kankuro reached out and pulled the heavy hockey bag away out of Gaara's grip, slinging it over his own shoulder instead. Neither boy spoke, but no words were necessary for the two. Kankuro's approval was made clear by his acknowledgment of his younger brother, and Gaara could tell him what he was thinking with one flick of his devastatingly solemn eyes.

Temari and the boys made their way through the empty arena and the more crowded concessions and tickets lane. A couple of boys Gaara's age, all sweaty and wearing post-win grins, congratulated the redhead on his game. But it wasn't until they reached the door that someone stopped them, and this time, the newcomer wanted to speak with Temari.

Understandable, since Genma Shiranui _was _the captain/coach of her team.

He caught sight of her from across the room and broke into a jog to catch up, calling out her name to keep her from exiting. She stopped in mid-step and turned around to face him, eyes slightly narrowed. When Genma approached her out of practice, it usually meant he had a favor to ask, and today was most likely no different. Not that he wasn't a good captain; Genma was just busy with life. He'd smile in passing, make all the jokes in the world at your expense, and was always there if you really needed to talk to him about something, but Temari sure as hell wasn't one to worry the captain with meaningless talk of disagreements on the team. If there was a problem, she trusted the assistant captains to take it to Genma, and that was only if the man didn't notice it for himself.

"Hey," he said, grinning at her around the ever-present lollypop stick bouncing in the left corner of his mouth. Temari didn't know the reason he was always sucking on candy, and, quite frankly, did not want to know. The only time it was ever missing was when there was no room for it around his mouth-guard. "Are you going to make it for practice tonight?" the black-eyed man continued.

"Do I ever miss one?" Temari responded sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Genma laughed, shaking his too-long brown hair away from his face as he grinned. He was older than most of his team, but that age difference came in useful in the captaining and coaching of the group. "I can't make it home before practice, so I was wondering if you could pick Yugao up for me."

"No problem," Temari said truthfully.

"Thanks," Genma said with a grin, waving goodbye to her brothers as he turned to head back to his conversation.

"Hey, Genma?" Temari asked, stepping forward as the tension she'd felt since her conversation with Hidan came to a head. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Huh? I mean, sure," her captain said, turning around only to be spun back by Temari as she pulled him over to a circular table beside a concessions stand.

"You two can go out to the car," she told her brothers, speaking over her shoulder. "I'll be there in a sec."

"We'll wait," Kankuro managed to say as Gaara dragged him towards an energy-drink vending machine.

"That stuff will stunt your growth," Genma called, shaking his head with a wry smile on his face. "Kids," he said with a laugh as he turned back towards Temari, entirely missing the bird that was flipped his way by Kankuro. Strangely enough, even that didn't make Temari smile. "What's up?" Genma asked, switching his lollypop to the opposite side of his mouth as he grew more serious.

"The Akatsuki," she said simply. The word was all it took for Genma's eyes to narrow into brown slits.

"What about 'em?"

"They're undefeated, right?"

"Currently," he said, a sly tone stealing into his voice. "Not for much longer, though. I don't plan on letting their record beat ours."

"Right," Temari said simply. "How do they play?"

"That's right!" Genma exclaimed, eyes narrowing again. "You missed that game, didn't you?"

"Gaara had a high fever," Temari said with a shrug. truth be told, Gaara's temperature had been off by merely a two degrees, but Temari couldn't bear to leave him alone when he was feeling even a little sick.

"Well, they play smart, and they play fast," Genma said, his voice shifting to a more business-like tone. "But mostly, they play rough."

"Dirt rough?"

"Well, it all depends on the refs," Genma said. "But if they can get away with it, they'll play dirt. Extreme dirt."

"Not outside the rink, right?"

"Why?"

"One of them…uh, started a conversation with me today," Temari said slowly. "During Gaara's game."

"Conversation?"

"He wanted to know what the name of our goalie was," Temari said, carefully watching Genma to gauge his reaction.

"What'd you say?"

"Something about spilling his brains on the ice tomorrow night," Temari said with a shrug. "But that's not the point," she added as Genma seemingly choked on his sucker, lifting a hand to his throat as a round of horrendous coughing issued from his mouth, his shoulders shaking with the intensity. Temari might actually have been worried if she hadn't been able to tell that he was actually laughing hard enough to give his abs a real workout. "Would they do something to hurt Baki _off _the ice?"

"I…don't…think so," Genma coughed. "No," he continued with a shake of his head as he got his full breath back. "Especially not with that kind of protection." He stared at her for a moment, then dissolved into a fit of giggles all over again, almost stuffing his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing any harder.

"Hey," Temari sighed, somewhat offended. "I was serious, you know."

"Yeah, I know!" Genma laughed, rolling his eyes as if the idea of underestimating Temari was simply ridiculous, if not life-threatening. "But, you know, Akatsuki has no girls on their team. They're…sexist? They have a female manager, though…what'd he say?"

"Nothing original enough to remember," Temari shrugged. Genma looked disappointed; he'd been anticipating the comeback.

"Well, he shouldn't bother you again after that," he chirped, grinning at his teammate.

"Um, no," Temari said, thinking guiltily of the wager that stood between her and Hidan. "Nah, I don't think he will."

"Good," Genma said. "I'll call Baki about it just in case, though. Is that it?" Temari nodded, already turning to pull her brothers away from the vending machine. "Remember to pick up Yugao," Genma reminded her.

"Alright," she called over her shoulder. She waved back at him, and Genma grinned, shaking his head as he crossed the room to rejoin the group he'd been talking with.

There was no denying the truth -- the upcoming game with Akatsuki made him nervous. He'd been to three of their games, and he'd seen the elbow the massive, oddly colored defensemen threw up whenever he hit. He'd seen the powerful extra stride the heavy right wing added to his charge when going in for the hit. He'd seen the tripping, the punches, the roughing. He'd heard the insults.

Akatsuki stopped at nothing to win. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Genma was having second thoughts about playing...truthfully, about letting the girls play. Of course, there was no way he could keep them off the ice; for one thing, The Tanukis would have to forfeit, for another, he'd be dead within 24 hours or less. In no way did he doubt their skill. It was just…they were small. Well, smaller. And if he knew Akatsuki at all, he knew that they'd target the smallest first.

Genma rolled his sucker around in the corner of his mouth, scowling at the cement floor that flashed by beneath his feet. He knew that Yugao, Anko, Yugito, and Temari would hate him if they knew about his misgivings, but up until a few minutes ago, he hadn't been able to help it.

But now, he figured that, with players like Temari, the nervous fluttering…hell, the nervous flood, was all in vain. Those girls were tough. You didn't become the best female hockey players just by wanting it. No, they fought, they worked, they sweated blood just as thick as the guys. No way they could lose with attitude like that…

….right?

* * *

Alright, I'm almost finished with this whole piece, but I wanted to ask a few questions of the readers before I finish. If you could give me your opinion, it would be absolutely lovely.

Question One: Play-by-play hockey or more of an overview style? I could go on and on, but I don't want to if it's something that most readers will just skim over.

Question Two: Is it worth it for me to designate Akatsuki positions? AKA, do you care?

And reviews in general would be great :)


	2. Playing Dirty

The reader's forgiveness is requested by an author who did not pay close enough attention to the first chapter and was recently alerted to the presence of several devious typos in and amongst the more innocent words...sorry! Also, my thanks to everyone who took the time to answer those questions.

**A Friendly Wager: Playing Dirty**

by **green see-through ghosts**

WARNING: strong language...

* * *

"Where's mine?" Temari asked with a grin as Kankuro gulped half of his Vault down in a single swig. Gaara tossed her a bottle of blue Gatorade, an open can of Java Monster in his other hand. Temari caught it easily and twisted the cap off; post-game drinks were part of a ritual established by her mother long ago. Granted, the tender woman was long dead, and the choice of drinks had changed, but as Temari took a swig of the artificial energizer, the routine was just as sweet as it had been then; the bitter after-taste only served to intensify the feeling.

"What the scary thing is," Kankuro continued, turning to Gaara as the two of them walked out the front doors and into the icy, mid-winter wind, energy drinks in hand, "is that this crap doesn't even effect you."

"Yes, it does," Temari and Gaara said in unison.

"Well, to a degree," Kankuro said with a roll of his eyes. "But most kids your age are jumping off the walls like freaking poodles after half a can. You just sort of…stay awake."

"That's the point, Kankuro," Temari said with a slight shake of her head. As the older of her two brothers began to protest in a loud and slightly raspy voice, Temari couldn't help the tired smile that forced its way onto her face. She may have been old for her twenty-two years, but then again, she'd been ancient for her eleven years, antique for her fifteen, and positively archaic for her nineteen. Being mature had always been a part of life. And if maturity meant mother, oh well. There were worse fates that she could imagine.

Of course it got hard some times. Kankuro could be as annoying as said poodles on some days, and heaven forbid the times that Gaara clammed up and wouldn't tell her anything, much less what was wrong. On those days, she'd curse her dead mother and criminal father for leaving her with the burden of their making; but on these days, when the harsh world seemed to spare the three wanderers the normal share of grief, it didn't take much to make Temari smile.

--

After ten minutes of arguing about where to eat, then driving across town to Gaara's favorite restaurant, then having to reorder for Kankuro when the waiter got it wrong, then making the twenty minute drive from town to reach their small house on the outskirts, it was nearly six o'clock, and Temari had to head out again in twenty minutes. Practice was at seven, which meant that with the drive, plus detour to pick up Yugao and dressing out time, she had to leave by six-twenty.

"Homework?" she asked Gaara, who'd dropped down in front of the X-box the minute they'd walked in the door.

"Done," he said, reaching across the couch for the miniature, black plastic guitar that rested against the faded fabric of the arm.

"When?" Temari demanded, frowning in slight doubt as she leaned over the back of the couch, head nearly level with Gaara's.

"Before the first period," he explained as he began the first stages of Guitar Hero III startup.

"Good grief, you little nerd," Kankuro laughed as he flopped down in the easy chair across from his brother, laptop and headphones in hand.

"Hey," Temari said, peeved. "He doesn't need to have as crappy of work habits as you do."

"I have excellent work habits," Kankuro denied as he plugged his headphones in and shoved the head band around his neck. "I just don't do useless things like homework."

"All I'm asking for is a few community college classes," Temari said with a sigh. "You can handle two or three."

"Who cares about college?" Kankuro laughed as his computer screen lit black. "_I _don't need it."

"Whatever," Temari sighed. True enough, Kankuro had a decent job without the degree; still, it was the idea of it that bothered her.

While the beginning strains of something by Lacuna Coil sounded through the second-rate sound system, Temari stood up straight and turned away from the living room, glancing at her watch as she jogged up the carpeted stairs and down the carpeted hallway into her one-window room. A single bed was shoved against the far wall underneath the curtained and cracked-open window, and a desk with a computer on it and drawer-set covered the other wall. The closet doors were half-open, revealing old hockey gear, sports bags, and workout equipment spilling from the built in drawers. For the most part, the room was clean, but a small layer of dust coated some surfaces, showing on the drawer in particular. With hockey, classes, and her job, Temari wasn't around much, and the state of the room made that very clear.

Temari's attention was drawn to this when she noticed a slight disturbance in the grime on the drawer. On a whim, she changed course mid-step and came to a stop right in front of the drawer.

A long moment of startled silence followed. Then a gasped intake of breath and a sudden, pulsing fury.

Written in the dust in a jerky print were the words, _Wear the red jacket, black shirt…& nice house, Temari. _

Temari stared at it for a long moment. Then, without hardly thinking, she turned and crossed to the closet in two strides. Jerking the closet door open haphazardly, she gaped at what she saw -- most clothes pushed to the left on the pole, but the black skirt and red jacket hanging separated from the rest.

She stared at the clothing, mind racing. _How did he get in? How did he even find my address? And god, is he really taking this seriously? _She eyed the clothes that he picked out more closely. It was what she'd worn for Kankuro's graduation -- simple, but nice…and, well modest. But, it couldn't really be for church, could it? He was jerking her chain…right?

She crossed back to the dresser and stared at the words. A breeze blew in through the open window, scuttling a few larger dust motes across the message. She reached out to brush the words away, but hesitated, then turned away entirely. Down the hall, down the stairs, and back into the living room she walked, her arms crossed over her chest, a scowl on her face.

"Did you guys notice anything weird when you got home?" she asked shortly, eyes narrowed. Kankuro shook his head without looking up, and Gaara shrugged. "Nothing at all?" she continued, leaning over the back of the old couch to look more closely at them. Both boys ignored her.

Back upstairs, Temari wasted no time in swiping her fist across the words, effectively wiping the message onto the floor. Questions hurtled through her mind, an endless game of chase the tail right behind her eyes as she wiped her dusty hand against her jeans.

Call Genma? Yugao? The police? _Anyone_? Confront him? Beat the hell out of him? Retaliate? Forget it? Tell the boys?

"No," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. No to all of it. She didn't need help, and she didn't need to confront the bastard. It had taken her a moment to see through him, but once she got her mind on track, he was about as clear as a nicely washed window.

_He taunts you, gets you angry, and then you make mistakes_, Temari thought grimly. _That's when he steps in and really messes you up. I'd bet a night out with Baki that he does it on the ice. I wonder how many times he's been kicked out. Hell, I wonder how many players he's __**gotten **__kicked out_.

She paced the worn carpet of her room, eyes focused vaguely on the floor.

_He's just trying to get me off my game for tomorrow night. It's just like Genma said. They play dirt_. She eyed the dust balls on the carpet and snorted. _They __**so **__play dirt_.

So what to do? Anything?

_No_, she thought, then changed her mind with a swift, under-hand idea that popped into existence in front of her eyes, all confetti and starbursts and sparkly streamers.

It wasn't like her, but then again, neither was betting in the first place. And if she was going to sell her soul, so to speak, she might as well be through.

But honestly, she laughed to herself as she made her way towards the closet once again. He was setting himself up for this one.

--

"You didn't honestly think I'd believe that, did you?" Shikamaru drawled, eyebrows raised over his silvery eyes as he sighed deeply, annoyed.

"Yes. I was sort of counting on it," Temari complained, narrowing her eyes in a no-nonsense manner.

The two Tanuki defense-men were sitting beside each other on the locker room bench, both half-dressed out in bulky knee-length pants, shin-pads, socks, and skates. Temari was lacing up her skates as Shikamaru lazily pulled his shoulder pads over his thick black pony-tail and long-sleeved shirt; the rest of the team surrounded them, the loud talk of before practice filling the echoing room.

"So this guy-"

"From the Akatsuki."

"Was flirting with you earlier-"

"Just pretending."

"To make a bet with you-"

"Concerning church."

"Then broke into your house to taunt you."

"Concerning church."

"Have you been taking Gaara's sleeping pills again?" Shikamaru asked lazily as he fastened the Velcro straps of the shoulder pads before reaching for his elbow protectors. "You know how delusional they make you."

"Shikamaru," Temari growled, straightening up to glare at her friend. "I'm absolutely serious."

"I'm sure you are," Shika sighed, sending a baleful look up at the ceiling. "That's what has me worried."

"Listen," she sighed, bending down to lace up her second skate. "I wouldn't normally ask you to do something like this. You know that."

"Of course," Shikamaru deadpanned as he pulled his black practice jersey over his head. "That's why I think someone murdered you and replaced you with you."

"You're ridiculous," Temari said through a huff of laughter.

"Back at you," Shika yawned. Done dressing out, he simply leaned back against the wall and waited for Temari to finish up, black helmet in hand and gloves resting beside him on the heavy plastic bench. Although she could have used the break in the conversation to try to convince him, she knew she could do no better than she already had. So instead, she simply let him think, which was something the brilliant defense-man was expert at. But by the time she had pulled on her own black jersey and fished her gloves out of her bag, he hadn't seemed to finish.

Temari waited another moment, then turned towards him.

"Well?"

The twenty-two year old was sound asleep, his mouth slightly open, breath coming easy. Temari glared for a moment, then leaned over, placed her lips beside his ear, and whistled. Loudly.

"What the hell!?" Shikamaru barked out, his helmet falling to the floor as he bolted into an upright position. Several people in the room laughed, and he turned to Temari, scratching the back of his head through his yawn. "What a pain," he muttered as he glared at her.

"Well?"

"Yes, stupid blonde," Shika huffed. "What did you think I'd do?"

"Exactly what you did," Temari said easily.

"Good," Shika sighed, and without another moment's hesitation, the two of them stood up and left the locker room together, sticks, gloves, and helmets in tow.

--

Practice was mostly normal for the Tanuki team. As was usual for the last practice before a game, they scrimmaged six on four, pitting the goalie and his defense against the offensive lineup. While this wasn't the norm for most teams, the players of this particular group had long since discovered that scrimmaging was the most useful form of preparation for a big game.

There was the goalie, Baki, who was so solid in net and strange the rest of the time that Temari had given up all hopes of Gaara ever becoming normal;

There was the second center, Yugao, who was vicious on the ice, friendly everywhere else, and always, always, kept her cool;

There was rightwing Iruka, who was sympathetic and compassionate and could see half a dozen passing options in half a second;

There was leftwing Yamato, who made humorous faces before he slammed anyone into the boards and never quit with the narrating;

There was defenseman Hayate, who would cough up his soul for his entire bench sit, then take the ice as if illness was a town in Italy;

There was rightwing Anko, who was intense and fast and loved her cursing;

There was leftwing Yugito, who was cold and imperious even as she stole the puck with unimaginable grace;

There was defenseman Shikamaru, who was as brilliant as a rocket scientist and played using his brains because he had no brawn;

There was defensemen Temari, who served the most penalty minutes of anyone on the team and always had a score to settle;

And there was starting center Genma, who could manipulate his team into doing things everyone else thought impossible even as he scored the first and final goals. He was their coach; they couldn't afford, or even put up with, any other. So at the end of practice, he was the one to speak those final, fateful words of advice.

"Ignore the dickheads."

A snort of laughter shot up from the male half of the team and Anko.

"I'm serious," Genma continued. "These guys are ass-holes. They are going to do everything they can to get you guys angry. You all just have to let it go and keep playing. Got it?" The team nodded. "Temari?" Genma continued.

"Shudup," she snapped as her teammates snickered.

"I'm just saying," Genma shrugged. "We all know you love the penalty box. You have got to keep your cool during the game."

"I know, Genma," she sighed.

"They're going to taunt you-"

"It can't be any worse than this, can it?" Her teammates laughed, but Genma nodded seriously.

"It can, Temari. It so, totally, can."

"_Okay_, Genma. I get. The picture."

"Alright then," the brown-haired man sighed. "Everyone needs to be here by five for the traditions. Sleep well, drink milk, and eat noodles. Yugao, are you riding with me?"

"Nah," the long-haired woman said with a grin as she slid her helmet back on her head, tipping the mask up and away from her face. "Hayate and I are going out for a bit."

As the team disbanded across the ice, Baki and Yamato returning to the net to practice shooting and the others heading for the locker room, Temari pulled Shikamaru over to a spot on the boards.

"Be here tomorrow at four-thirty," she ordered.

"And you want me to do what?" the defenseman sighed. Temari glanced warily down at Baki and Yamato, then leaned forward and pulled Shikamaru's head in closer to whisper. For a moment, the only sound in the arena was the slice of a stick grazing the ice and the dull thump as the puck hit squarely in the center of Baki's catcher. Yamato laughed at something Baki said, then dodged as the goalie tossed the puck at him -- the effortless movement of flying on skates.

"And you think it'll work?" Shikamaru yawned lazily when Temari was through whispering.

"We're going to win," Temari said simply.

"Actually…"

"Don't. Even. Say it."

"Well…"

"Shudup."

"Whatever," Shikamaru said with a shrug. "Your church time, not mine."

--

Across time, another team was having a meeting.

There are no details about individual players. Akatsuki keeps their players secret to keep them safe. With the hatred aimed towards the ruthless group came a certain responsibility.

_To be feared, we must be cautious_.

"Does everyone understand?"

"We play, we taunt, we kill, we win," droned a blonde-haired man with an empty shot glass in his left hand, rolling his wide, blue eyes as the people around him exhaled almost evenly. The nearly empty bar was shadowy, but there was just enough light to reveal the faces of each man present.

There was the goalie Sasori, who loved being hammered from every angle because he hated waiting while his team played at the other end;

There was leftwing Tobi, who skated fast and fell every other step despite his tendency to catch passes that had been given up as lost long ago;

There was defenseman Kisame, who laughed non-stop and elbowed like crazy;

There was rightwing Zetsu, who had a knack for showing up in the oddest positions when least expected;

There was center Hidan, who had the mouth of ten sailors and only played hockey so that he could start fights with dumb jocks and maybe, just maybe, preach at them a bit after the game;

There was defenseman Kabuto, who remained calm no matter what and managed to dodge most hits thrown his way;

There was rightwing Itachi, who was talented and skilled, but lacked a passion for the game;

There was leftwing Deidara, who could back-up anyone, but seemed to lose track of the real goal in the tensest situations;

There was defenseman Kakuzu, who played club hockey instead of golf because once you paid for the gear, skates, and rink fees, there were no cost attached;

And there was center Pein, who convinced, connived, and, ever so often, coerced his players into giving their all for…well, his sake.

"Right, Deidara" he stated, his smile as harsh as the metal studs in his fair skin. "And when we win?"

"We get stepped up a league."

"And if they win?"

"We lose our funding."

"But will we let them win?"

"…No."

"Are they going to score?"

"No…"

As the mindless babble continued, one Akatsuki player finally zoned out.

Because Hidan had something more interesting to think about…or, more accurately, some_one_.

He'd done his research. And for once in a long time, Hidan was actually excited for a game. Well, mostly for the challenge of seeing if he could get her kicked out or not, but still, that could only come with the game.

Hidan leaned back in his padded leather chair and pictured her in his mind. He'd seen her around before, of course -- most of the city hockey players had. She was taller than most females, not to mention courser -- a sort of roughness that invaded the way she walked and spoke, even her facial expressions. Of course from what he'd found out, this was no surprise.

"The Beast" they'd nicknamed her down at the referee clinics and training buildings. He'd gotten in touch with a ref who knew everyone, but particularly Pein, and was always willing to share a few stories.

"_Suna United High School won three state championships with her on their defensive line," the salt-and-pepper haired man said reminiscently as he leaned back against the back-rink hallway wall, his practice stick tucked under his chin. "For the first two, she was in the penalty box with the lead scorer of the opposite team for the final minutes. Her senior year, she caught a dropped pass and took it up the ice to score on a last minute shot and a tie-breaking goal." _

"_Fuck," Hidan said admiringly, leaning against the opposite wall as he crossed his arms over his chest. _

"_Instrumental, you could say," the ref continued. "Not someone who shines out, but SUHS couldn't have done it without her." _

"_What about the Tanukis?" Hidan asked, raising a finely curved eyebrow. "I mean, high school's fucking important, and all, but not if she plays shitty for the comp team." _

"_This is her second year on the Tanuki team," the ref said slowly. _

"_But she's like, twenty-two, right?" _

"_Yeah," the ref said with a nod of his head. "Had some sort of family troubles right out of high school, and pretty much disappeared off the face of the earth for about two years. _

"_She got fucking _pregnant_?" _

"_No," the ref sighed with a roll of his eyes. "I heard her father died and left some debts behind. All I know is that she takes care of her brothers now, and one of them is a damn good goalie." _

"_She mentioned something like that," Hidan muttered. _

"_Once she came back around, the Tanukis pulled her right in, and she's been running their defensive line since then. Not much scoring, but man, has she got the penalty minutes record." _

"_More than me?" _

"_Yup," the ref laughed. "After all, I said penalty minutes, not games kicked out of." _

"_Fuck! Has she been kicked out?" _

"_Once, in high school," the ref said. "I was a linesman for that game." He tipped his head back against the wall and squinted up at the ceiling. "Let's see…oh yeah." He scowled. "It was a strange reason to get kicked out, but the ref's call goes." _

"_What the hell'd she do?" _

"_Well, she chucked her stick into the crowd during play," the man said. "Yelled some choice words, too. Hit some guy in the side of the head. Funny thing was, she didn't try to talk her way out of it, even though I thought it was a bogus call." _

"_What the hell did she say?" _

"_Let's see…something like, 'Get out of the damn rink if you don't give a fuck,' or something." Hidan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew as well as the ref himself did that the man knew exactly what Temari had yelled. And if he was telling the truth, this was good stuff. _

"_So someone she didn't like was there?" _

"_I have no idea," the ref said with a shrug. "Probably." _

"_And nothing since them?" _

"_Like I said, she may love the penalty box, but she hates leaving the arena." _

"_Whatever. See you around." _

"_Yeah, you're welcome." _

The Beast, he said to himself, eyeing the course blonde hair and narrowed blue-green gaze in his mind. He smirked to himself. Yeah. It fit.

"Hidan, are you listening?" Pein snapped. The lavender-eyed man was suddenly aware of everyone's eyes on him and his seemingly purposeless smirk.

"No," he said, widening his smirk as he looked up at the team captain. And as Pein blasted off on something as useless as his usual pre-game prep, Hidan zoned out again. The Beast. A stinging pain in his jaw and a glimpse of those liquid fury eyes above his raised arm. Blondie. A confident sneer and a threat delivered effortlessly and, if he could believe the records, with back-up. Temari. The sister that stood behind her kid brother with enough focus for half a fucking telepathic community.

_Yeah_, he thought with another grin. He was looking forward to tomorrow night.

--

If Temari had been aware of the nickname placed on her, she would have been torn between satisfaction and frustration. She didn't necessarily try to develop the intimidating front, but then again, she did nothing to prevent it. Still, there was something about being feared that didn't quite sit right with her.

Fear was what got her through high school, and fear was the weapon that had helped her save her brothers after her father's death. In fact, after her mothers died, fear was how she functioned. It wasn't easy being feared, but sometimes, it could come in handy…

…_because being feared meant that you couldn't fear…_

…right? She rolled over on her pillow, pressing her back against the wall as her wide eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

It was late, late, late, and yet Temari wasn't sleeping, thought not for lack of trying. She hadn't begun by stressing out over the game -- it was that last cup of coffee, drunk at ten PM, which meant that the minimal six hours wouldn't be up for another two -- but somehow, as the sleepless hours whiled away, that's where her mind was straying.

_A bet_…two bets…_and soon to be three_. She wasn't a gambler, so why did this voracious nervousness akin to excitement flare up in her chest whenever she thought about the wager?

_If I win, you get to come to church with me on Sunday_…jeez, it just sounded like some lame double entendre! Temari snorted as she clenched a pillow closer to her chest, her arm muscles vibrating slightly as her upper body tensed up anxiously. He didn't think she was that stupid, did he?

_Or was he serious? _

She dismissed the notion immediately. Him? Church?

_Ha. _

But really, he couldn't try to fool her using innuendo in a legal bet, could he?

_Ha. Legal bet and church just seem to go together, don't they? _

Temari ground her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut. She could almost hear Kankuro's voice echoing through her head, whispering teasingly, _find a happy place_, _find a happy place_. The effects of the caffeine on her body were beginning to lessen; still, even with her eyes glued irreversibly shut, she could only see one obnoxious, too-pretty face.

_Damnit! Why are you nervous? You haven't been nervous since the custody trial three years ago_.

Because this is different, Temari thought reluctantly. This is, once again, not something I can control.

_Of course you can! Win, you stupid. _

But I can't win on my own!

_Who says you're on your own? Anyways, you're letting him win right now_.

Temari cocked her head to one side, pressing her cheek to her shoulder. Inside her mind was dead silence that lasted for a long moment. It was a realization that she'd made before, but somehow, it seemed to hit home like a puck-splitting slap-shot to the head. She smiled faintly. Then giggled. Then laughed.

And laughed, and laughed.

Before she had finished, all the knots of her thinking had come undone, and her mind was relaxing into a state approachable by sleep.

_He wanted to confuse you; he wanted to make you worry; he wanted to unsettle you so that when game time came, you'd be an easy target. He's trying to make you fear; trying to make you make mistakes_.

So how to counter? she wondered distantly, the living apprehension not quite gone yet, even though her muscles were relaxing from their locked position. I screwed this one up again. Stupid message!

She laughed again.

_Go to sleep, stupid_.

So she did.

--

"Noodles!"

"Kankuro, I told you, I'd make it myself!"

"NO, Temari. SIT. Gaara, grab a plate, would you? Temari, SIT!"

"…"

"Kankuro-"

"Noodles, with…uh, cheese and bird, at your service."

"…"

"…"

"Oh, come on, just eat."

"Right." Temari stared at the dish in front of her, nonplussed by the metallic orange of the sauce and mush that he called noodles, dotted here and there with chicken that was entirely too pink. She suspected that he'd made boxed Macaroni and Cheese, using extra cheese packets, then added chicken. Why was her place the only one set?

…it looked so disgusting, not even Kankuro would try it on pain of death.

"You first?"

They ended up leaving a half a minute later to make a quick stop at a restaurant before attending the game. Temari ate the ritualistic pre-game meal, pasta and chicken. Or, as Kankuro would have put it, noodles and bird.

"I heard the weirdest thing last night," Kankuro rambled as the three of them dug into their food, eating quickly since Temari had to be at the rink in fifteen minutes. "This odd sound, almost like how Gollum chortles. It sounded like it was coming from your room, Temari."

"I heard it too," Gaara said quietly, staring coldly at his sandwich before taking a bite.

Temari froze mid-chew, then forced herself to swallow.

"Around what time?" she asked before taking a sip of her too-sweet Gatorade.

"Uh, two? Three? I'm not totally sure…I think I broke my alarm clock the other morning. Damn things been going off at six every day since Gaara messed with it." He shot a glare at his little brother, who was suddenly staring at the desert menu with unparalleled interest. "Do you know what it was?" Kankuro glanced over at Temari with a raised eyebrow to find her looking down and away, but not quickly enough to hide the smirk on her face.

"Yeah," she said, and didn't choose to elaborate.

"Well?" Kankuro prodded after a second.

"Um…I'll tell you if we win the game, okay?" Temari looked back up, and was too late erasing the humor in her eyes to keep it secret. "It's sort of a long story..."

…_and neither is it finished yet._

* * *

Right now, I'm trying to decided if this will be more than four chapters. Four is the least...eight is probably the most...ten ridiculous for this plot.

Reviews would be wonderful!


	3. Suspicion of Doom Confirmed

**A Friendly Wager: Suspicion of Doom -- Confirmed**

by **green see-though ghosts**

Warning: strong language...a bit of hockey violence...

* * *

The rink was crowded with the usual bunch of adult-comp-team-game-fans -- a varied mix of parents wanting to see their kids succeed at _something _to fan groups waiting to catch a glimpse of their worshipped players to neighborhood kids simply bored out of their minds. The game started at seven; it was six-thirty, and both teams were currently taking the ice for pre-zam warm-ups.

Well, for the most part. A few players lagged behind the benches -- most notably, two Tanuki defensemen and a silver-haired Akatsuki center.

"You wanna fucking up the bet? Shit, bitch, you're crazier than you look."

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the chuckling man.

"I'm the one who wants to add to the bet," he said lazily, tucking his stick under his chin as he frowned at Hidan. "She's just along for protection."

"A fucking body-guard, huh?" Hidan chuckled again and leaned sideways against the glass boards. "So? What do you want?" He looked at Temari was he spoke, blatantly ignoring Shikamaru. "You get my message?"

"What message?" Temari asked innocently, raising an eyebrow and suppressing the urge to throttle him.

"Oh, fuck it," Hidan laughed. "So? Asshole?"

"You already told Temari that if she wins, you leave her alone for good," Shikamaru sighed. "If you win, she goes to church with you."

"We don't need a fucking overview, bud."

"Well, that just seems like a bad deal to me," Shikamaru said with a shrug. "So let's say that if you win, she goes to church with you and I…" Shikamaru gestured vaguely with his free hand, but Hidan answered for him anyways.

"Fuck yourself."

"Whatever. But if _we _win, there's no church, no fucking of myself, and you volunteer to coach one of the city mite teams."

For a moment, Hidan actually hesitated, his violet eyes narrowed slightly in consideration. A mite team…lots of five to seven year olds…walking on ice…falling over more than skating…it needed a moment of inner debate. Then, as the smirk that Temari had been holding in check finally emerged on her face, he laughed.

"Sure. What the fuck, I'm going to win anyways."

Temari and Shikamaru stared at him blankly, Temari's grin disappearing in a second.

"You're that confident?" Shikamaru muttered. "Jeez, that's troublesome."

"Are you kidding?" Temari snapped. "You'd risk a season of misery for this stupid _bet_?"

"Hell yeah, Blondie…hell yeah."

--

"Well, that backfired," Shikamaru muttered darkly as the two hockey players joined their team on the ice. "Wasn't he supposed to drop it, or something?"

"God! What kind of idiot would agree to that?!" Temari raged, glaring down at her stick while the two of them skated towards the same line behind the goal. "I mean, honestly, he's risking an entire season's free-time for this stupid bet."

"Maybe he's mental," Shikamaru mused, coming to an abrupt stop beside the boards just behind Yugao.

"Who's mental?" she asked suspiciously.

"Genma," Temari said quickly. "He stole my Baur Vapor _again_."

"He did?" Shikamaru frowned.

"It is more of an offensive stick," Yugao said apologetically, smiling at the defensemen through her face-mask.

"It's perfect for me," Temari said with a shrug. "Lighter sticks fit my movement."

"Meaning they're easier to slash with," Shikamaru muttered under his breath. As Temari opened her mouth to retaliate, Genma yelled for them to move into the drill, and the diversion conversation was dropped.

The two teams -- white and red on one end, black and green on the other -- flashed through the warm-up drills, the sound of pucks slapping the boards and sticks scraping the ice echoing through the arena. They passed, they shot, they hit, they rushed. In fifteen minutes, preparation drills were finished, and both teams left the ice to allow the zamboni to make its rounds.

Genma gave a brief prep-talk, then allowed his players to get into their zone through any means necessary. For most, including Genma, this meant simply having a moment to sit in silence, visualizing the game ahead of them, the plays they would make, the moves they would use. For a few, including Temari, it meant loud, pounding music pushing every other element out of their minds. For one, Shikamaru, it meant sitting there rolling his eyes and fighting back sleep until it was time to head out.

But when that time came, everyone was ready for the game. And if there was a slight, tickling suspicion of doom in the back of Temari's mind, well, it would have to be ignored.

Game time had come.

--

The chilly stadium was about three-quarters full of fans, two-thirds sporting the colors and mascots of their favorite team, one-third neutral. Colors of every sort shifted on the rows of hard seats; grandparents sat beside their sons and daughters to watch _their _sons and daughters live out their lives on the ice below. Children, mostly of the toddler variety, jumped up and down excitedly, pointing out towards that one important person wearing that one recognizable number. Friends joked with each other at the expense of the players; serious friends leaned forward and watched, wondering if their solemnity would do their comrades any good. Referees circled the rink, stretching out their legs and eyeing the players critically in search of the troublemakers. The players skated easy laps and stretched; the goalies dug their skate blades into the ice in front of their nets, roughing up the surface for better grip.

So many categories watched that Temari had long since learned to call them the crowd. Any other stereotyping was pointless, because in one moment of intensity, in one blink of passions, every character could morph into something opposite of what she first thought.

The crowd spanned the length of the bleachers, most sitting close to the rink, while a few lined the walkway over-hanging the rink. From the high-up position, everything was visible when leaning forward over the railing. The corners of the rink, all the face-off circles, the players' boxes, the penalty boxes.

That was where Gaara and Kankuro stood side-by-side, Gaara in his own black and green home jersey, Kankuro in a matching sweatshirt and knit cap underneath the black hood. The older boy was bobbing slightly to the music playing through his headphones, while Gaara remained perfectly still, his only movement the flicker of his eyes as they followed his sister across the ice. Other music was playing over the loudspeakers -- typical stadium tunes that were annoying under the best of conditions and addicting under most.

Gaara ignored it all.

Maybe he wasn't exactly wondering, since active thinking was a little out of character for the young stoic. But part of him wished that he could be just behind Temari the whole time she played, giving her the same sort of strength she gave him. It wasn't a large wish, and he knew it didn't even make sense. Still, he thought, too bad there wasn't a way to return the favor of her support. Too bad the only way to express his gratitude was to stand up there, in that same, consistent spot; to always be there if she glanced up, with a stare and, maybe, a nod.

The red-head knew that it was different for Kankuro. His brother had no qualms about cheering for his sister -- yelling her name out to the stadium in a way Temari hated, or booing the refs when they tossed her in the box for an undeserved, _or _deserved, penalty. But even though Gaara truly appreciated his sister, he didn't think it was that sort of recognition that Temari actually wanted. If it had been, maybe he'd have been willing to give it.

But then again, who knew what Temari really wanted. If Gaara was wondering correctly, not even she knew exactly what the wild uprising of emotion at the sight of her brothers standing up on the balcony meant. And, he supposed, as long as she kept feeling it, the lack of knowledge didn't exactly matter. He guessed it was similar to how he felt knowing that she stood behind him in net, but then, it would have been out of character for Gaara to even begin to describe _that _feeling.

Some things were untouchable. He would have called them sacred, but then again, sacred things were defiled every day while they stood by and watched. Untouchable…was different.

At least, he'd like to think that.

Gaara's not-so-active-thoughts were interrupted sharply as the echoing music cut off abruptly with a squeal of ear-splitting feed-back. The crowed vocalized its complaints in the form of scattered booing as the suave announcer began making his rounds, starting with the usual call-to-order:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Ice-Addicts Club Senior Division Hockey! Tonight's game is a match-up between the Senior Tanukis and the Akatsuki." The crowd began to quiet as the words echoed around the full stadium; Kankuro pulled his headphones out and reached into the front pocket of his sweat-shirt to turn of his music as Gaara stared down impassively at the two teams that were beginning to line up at their respective ends. "We'll begin by announcing the players for each team, starting with our home team for the evening, the Tanukis!"

Kankuro joined in on the cheering as the announcer gave the names of the second-line of the older Tanuki hockey team; but, since it was only Yugao, Iruka, Yugito, and Shikamaru, he was done in no time at all. As the teams were evenly matched in numbers of players, it took only a moment longer for the commentator to give the names of the four Akatsuki second-starters, as he had an untold of amount of trouble with the name of a certain blonde left wing. Temari was shifting rather uncomfortably on her skates as she waited beside Hayate and Baki, glancing up ever so often as if to check that her brothers were still there.

After giving the starting line-ups of both teams, interrupted by much cheering and, ever so often, booing -- especially, Gaara noted, at the name of a white-haired Akatsuki player and, not surprisingly, his own sister -- the P of A was recited, the anthem sung, the officials announced, and the good-luck to the teams spoken. As both teams moved towards their benches, Temari glanced up at the boys, smiling briefly before pulling her helmet on. Kankuro waved back, but Gaara simply watched her. He would have liked to be able to tell her that she didn't need to be worried, but knew that it wasn't worth the effort or embarrassment to yell it down to her.

Good thing that Temari wasn't actually worried. In fact, the smile that she'd shot up at her brothers was real; she was looking forward to the start of the game. Unfortunately, at around the time when she was skating to the box for the last-minute huddle, her eyes focused on the two figures at the end of the rink, a massive red-and-white shoulder bumped hard into hers, nearly knocking her off balance and most definitely lowering her gaze.

"Watch out for yourself, Blondie," Hidan laughed around his mouth guard, moving agilely on his skates to a backwards-skating position in front of her. "You're fucked up enough without being distracted by those two shit-heads."

"Just the fact that you consider that to be a _distraction _shows how stupid you are," Temari snapped back, good mood instantly fouled by his sarcasm.

"I'm not the one fucking up, now, am I?"

"You wouldn't know-"

"Hey, bud," the slow, smooth voice of Genma interrupted the conversation as the bulky center slid effortlessly in-between them, bringing their movement to an abrupt stop. "You can continue this later, when she's fucking you up. But we'd like to start the game now, you know?"

"Sure," Hidan laughed, grinning obnoxiously for a short moment before turning to take off down the ice. "Let's start the ass-whipping!" he shouted over his shoulder, still laughing, before joining his team at the box.

"He is one crazy sonofabitch," Genma sighed bleakly before turning to face Temari, brown eyes rolling. "Ignore him."

"Easy for you to say," Temari growled darkly, rolling her shoulders back as the two of them skated back towards the box.

"Don't make me bench you," Genma warned teasingly, tapping her stick with his…well, _her _stick that he just _happened _to be using.

"Ha," Temari huffed as she pulled up beside her teammates. "No way Shika and Hayate could play defense the whole time."

"That hurts," Hayate muttered through a rough cough before gulping down liquid from a water-bottle.

"Alright," Genma said loudly, interrupting the players' tittering with his slightly serious grin. "Listen up."

He began talking, something about keeping their eyes open -- paying extra attention to the people around them, looking for passing opportunities, spotting attitudes; but no-one really listened. Everything important had already been said, and now Genma was simply trying to fill in the three-minute break with coherent words that made a bit of sense. He succeeded until the end, when his "Everybody in," turned into "Everybody sin."

Nevertheless, for the most part, grins faded when Yamato, Genma, Baki, Anko, Temari, and Hayate took the ice, skating easily towards their spots -- Genma at center ice, Yamato to his left, Anko to his right, Temari and Hayate at the blue line, Baki in net. It didn't seem to matter that these were people who'd been playing hockey since they could walk; that pre-game excitement still blocked out rational thinking, and those nervous butterflies still fluttered at the sight of the opposing team. But, per the usual, there wasn't time to focus on the trepidation -- just a few seconds as the referees made sure the goalies and book keepers were ready and took a long hard look at the players. Then that one flashing hand -- that one drop of the puck that released butterfly-smashing demons.

The orange-haired Akatsuki center and Genma slashed violently at the puck; the black rubber disk shot of towards the Akatsuki rightwing, landing softly on his stick as he began moving down ice. The red center charged forward through the Tanuki front-line, turning himself to open up for the pass. Maybe he assumed it'd be easy to tap the puck through the Tanuki offense, or maybe he wanted to sidetrack them.

Whatever his reasoning, it was a bunch of wasted effort on his part. Anko was in the rightwing's face so fast that he didn't have time to even look for the pass; before he knew it, the short Tanuki was barreling down the ice, puck on her stick, Genma beside her and Yamato flashing up the left-hand boards. She tapped the puck against the boards at the blue-line, just hard enough to send it ricocheting beyond the light-weight defenseman who blocked her way; Genma collected it on the other side and curved in towards the net, skates flashing at an acute angle to the ice. The lone defenseman, trusting in the leftwing to cover Yamato, switched to the right to block Genma's shot.

So far, so good.

As Yamato got in front of the leftwing and Genma slowed up in front of the defenseman, Anko flashed by through the center, just a few feet ahead of the Akatsuki rightwing. Genma passed straight and hard to his left, a pass that Anko caught and directed towards the upper-right corner of the net. The puck clanked off the crossbar and shot off towards the left corner; a collective _aw _rose from the crowd as Yamato raced into the corner, arriving a split second before the big Akatsuki defenseman, who promptly shoved him into the boards for a battle over the puck. While Yamato trapped the rubber disc between his skates, the Akatsuki slashed down with his stick, poking viciously at the puck.

Just before Genma reached the two of them, the puck shot out along the boards, rolling straight onto the stick of the Akatsuki center at the blue-line. Gaara shoved his hands inside his pockets to keep from gripping the pole as Temari circled back towards her own blue-line in front of the approaching Akatsuki; Anko moved up beside the center, poking at the puck with her stick, but the red captain managed to pass to his leftwing, who passed back in order to get past Hayate. Then the center was right in front of her, puck on his stick, skating straight towards her.

Gaara imagined Temari's second-long smirk as she thanked whatever hockey deity there was for this chance; then she was spreading her feet to a shoulder's-width apart, slightly bending her knees -- her back straight, hands fisted beside each other on her stick, held horizontal at her waist. She brought her stick up level with her chest, pushing out with all her upper-body strength, and connected hard with the center's chest.

Another shoutwent up from the crowd as the thud of impact sounded across the ice, but Temari ignored the noise as she dashed to the left, dribbling the newly-collected puck on her stick and leaving the Akatsuki center to scramble quickly to his feet. As Kankuro shouted his laughing approval and Gaara allowed a small smile to cross his face, she passed right to Genma. It was intercepted just before it reached the Tanuki captain, and Temari headed back down the ice as Hayate chased after the Akatsuki player, striding down the ice, body low, stick outstretched. The red and white left-wing was gliding into position just in front of Baki; Temari dashed in low and shoved her stick underneath his, lifting both sticks from the ice as she viciously pushed him away from his position of screening her goalie.

Though the first few plays had been nearly perfect, the Akatsuki weren't a team to take anything lying down. And though the Tanuki had a theoretically good system, keeping it moving when players from the other team were interfering was easier said than done. The game soon subsided into a fast-paced battle between the two teams in which the Tanuki defense, and Temari in particular, shone, keeping the Akatsuki offense out of their zone with speed and efficiency. Granted, they could have used a bit more help from their offense, but the Akatsuki front-line was good, perhaps a bit better than Genma and his group.

The first penalty came eleven minutes into the period and, not surprisingly, it was on Temari for slashing. Gaara personally thought it was more of a high-sticking call, as the Akatsuki she'd hit had met her stick at a very up-close and personal level, even making eye-contact…but the refs would call what they would. It was a no-score game, the Tanuki were down their best defenseman, and the Akatsuki had a two-minute power-play.

The starting lines took the ice for the penalty kill; as soon as the puck was dropped down in the left of the Tanuki end, Genma knocked it back to Hayate, who had a split moment to slap it down the rink. Hayate had some skill at this form of play; the puck rose from the surface with the momentum, flying over the heads of the players to hit the ice and tumble towards the far boards. Gaara nodded his approval as Genma hurtled down the ice after the puck, closely following the two Akatsuki and leaving the other three Tanuki behind to prepare for the upcoming onslaught.

To everyone's surprise, including Genma's, the Akatsuki who caught the puck passed it long towards his captain back at the red-line, seemingly missing the presence of a Tanuki between he and his target. The crowd roared as Genma caught the bad pass with a burst of speed, leaving nothing but ice between him and the Akatsuki goalie. Gaara leaned slightly forward against the railing; Temari pressed hard against the penalty-box glass, eyes locked on the scene.

Genma closed the space without slowing down, glancing up from the puck to take a quick look at the goalie. With an Akatsuki on his heels, the quick-footed captain went left, drawing the goalie out to block that angle of the shot, before flipping it up towards the right. The puck skimmed the goalie's shoulder before it slammed into the corner of the net and dropped to the ice behind the crease.

Tanuki - 1, Akatsuki - 0

"Stupid defense," Kankuro laughed as the crowd roared and Genma shot back toward his players with a spreading grin on his face, only to be flattened against the boards by a hug-happy Yamato, joined a moment later by Anko and Hayate. "That was all his fault."

"Hnh," Gaara agreed passively as the commentator announced the goal, calling it un-assisted. As Genma moved towards the bench to allow Yugao to take the ice, he tapped his stick against the glass of the penalty box, smirking in at Temari, who simply shook her head and tried not to smile.

The rest of the power-play wasn't so easy to kill. The Akatsuki managed to keep the puck in the Tanuki zone for the entire minute and some seconds, hammering Baki with everything in the book. But it wasn't until Temari had just stepped back onto the ice that the real trouble began.

It was a pass from Yugao, behind Baki's net, to Iruka, half-way between the blue-line and the goal, that was deflected by a stray skate straight onto the stick of a certain white-haired, red-jersey center who was…centered…just in front of the net. Hayate had been chasing the puck behind the net, and Shikamaru was engaged in pushing the bulky rightwing away from the crease, leaving Hidan a straight, unguarded shot into the bottom left corner of the net.

Tanuki - 1, Akatsuki - 1

As Hidan lifted his stick in celebration, he turned to see a resigned Temari ignoring him as she brushed past on her towards the net. He laughed to himself as he circled the area, bumping fists with his teammates as they congratulated him. But, before skating to his bench, Hidan had something important he wanted to say.

"Hey, Blondie!" he yelled over his shoulder. Temari glanced up from her low talk with Baki, eyes slightly narrowed, but wasn't exactly expecting him to be talking to her. "That was your fault, you know," Hidan said with a grin.

The crowd had quieted enough for a few people who were paying attention to hear his taunt; one, chiefly, was particularly enraged.

"Hey, dumbass!" Kankuro yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to direct the words, "you got eyes. So what? A two-year-old could have scored on that kind of net!"

"…Kankuro…" Gaara said slowly as the Akatsuki center laughed out-loud, "…that was sort of reaffirmation of his statement."

"…where did you learn that word?"

"…what word?"

"Re-whatever."

"…"

"Where?!"

"…Baki."

"Thought so," the older boy muttered darkly, crossing his arms over his chest with a bit of relief that he'd avoided the truth of Gaara's comment. "Normal people don't use words like that."

The game continued. Granted, now there was a much smugger Hidan and much angrier Temari to be added to the equation, but things seemed to go just fine until there was a minute left in the period. That was when a dark-haired rightwing passed Hidan the puck just in front of Temari -- right in that oh-so-perfect space for a bone-crunching hit…

…Which she promptly administered. Even more vicious was the fact that it was in center ice, without any boards to cushion his fall. And fall Hidan did, so hard that he wondered for a moment if she'd really knocked the air out of him…

…Which she had. His mouth moved soundlessly for a long time, and he was so slow getting up that the refs should have blow the whistle. But, to be honest, all three referees were watching the play unfold at the far end, where Yugito, who had stolen the puck from the checked Hidan, had just passed to a wide-open Anko. Anko, the purple-haired daredevil, never even caught the pass -- just swung wildly at the puck, catching it on the tip of her stick and throwing it straight into the back of the net, just over the goalie's blocker….

…Which made the score Tanuki - 2, Akatsuki - 1, with forty seconds of play left in the first period…

…Which made Hidan the bad-guy on the red bench, and Temari the hero of the black…

…Which made Kankuro scream, and Gaara smile, and the crowd roar. And maybe Hidan cussed especially viciously when he got his breath back.

A minute later, when both teams were leaving the ice for the period break, Shikamaru moved up beside Temari and nodded towards the Akatsuki team, where Hidan was talking heatedly with the Akatsuki captain.

"Think he'll call it off?" Temari theorized hopefully. "I mean, we were both playing full out. They aren't really any better than us…?"

"For real?"

"No, for fake," Temari sighed as they moved towards the locker room.

"No," Shikamaru replied bluntly. "He won't call it off."

Temari took another moment to look down at the opposite locker room as Hidan stepped inside, pulling his helmet off as he strode from view.

"Okay," she muttered. "He is officially mental."

"Do you think he's serious about church yet?" Shikamaru murmured as they dropped down beside each other on the locker room bench.

"No," Temari replied. "There is _no way _that guy_…_Hidan…means actual church." Shikamaru raised a sweaty eyebrow. "No way," Temari repeated firmly.

--

The second period went by much like the first. The Akatsuki scored twice, right off the beginning face-off and again with three minutes left. Genma completed his hat-trick with a slap-shot from halfway between the blue and red lines and a deflection from the right side of the Akatsuki goalie. Temari took out the blonde leftwing, started a fight with the giant, gray-skinned defenseman, and ended up in the penalty box twice, each time with a member of the other team to keep her company.

As the zamboni finished its final round, the scoreboard read Home: 4; Away: 3. With an entire period left, Gaara knew that it was still too close to determine which team would come out on top. Granted, as the teams took the ice, the Tanukis did seem to be the more energetic team. The Akatsuki skated straight towards their bench, ignoring each other in the futile effort to appear cool and collected; Yamato bumped shoulders with Baki, who snarled something unintelligible at him before taking out Hayate as he dashed towards his net; Hayate stumbled into Yugito, who backed into Iruka, who apologized profusely as she turned an evil eye on he and Genma, who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time as he gave some quick tips to Yugao and Anko, who were both planning to periodically switch with Temari and Shikamaru in order to revitalize the lineup.

And revitalize it they did. Temari wasn't half bad at center, as long as she kept her anger under check and…well, matched up against Pein, not Hidan. It wasn't difficult to coordinate the lines; when Hidan left the ice, Temari stepped out. When he came back, she and Genma switched. If Hidan stayed out long enough to tire Genma out, Yugao took his place and Temari moved back to defense.

The positions functioned flawlessly until six minutes into the period, when the blonde leftwing caught a pass meant for Hayate as Yugao rushed to switch with Temari, leaving an empty stretch of ice between himself and Baki. The one-on-one went south the moment Deidara tricked Baki into lunging right before flipping the puck past his catcher and into the back of the net.

It was a tied game for only three minutes of frenzied play -- then Pein shot from the blue-line, a powerful slap-shot that somehow got past Shikamaru's stick and Baki's blocker before hitting the cross-bar and deflecting in, leaving the Tanuki with eleven minutes to tie it back up or pull ahead.

But by the time the clock was ticking down from a minute, the score was till five to four, and Genma was desperate enough to call a time out when the whistle was blown for icing. The players moved into a huddle just beside their box; water-bottles were pulled out, helmets pulled off, and glum pulled into smiles by Genma's cheerful question.

"Anyone tired?"

"Jeez," Shikamaru complained, "that last shot of your's was close."

"Their goalie is decent," Baki said quietly before spraying half his water over his face.

"He's more than just _decent_," Yugito added with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, people, listen up," Genma said with another tired grin. "Now's the time to pull through. Shikamaru, you and Temari back on defense. Yamato, Anko -- you two have got to back me up in there. Rebounds, people, rebounds."

"Don't let them bring it past the blue-line," Yugao continued. "You've got to keep it in their zone, and you've got to keep pushing it. Temari, I want you up at the red-line; Shika, stay back in case they get through. Temari, if that puck comes to you, you have got to bring it up and shoot on net, got it?" Temari nodded, but her narrowed eyes were more focused on the smirking lavender-eyed Akatsuki over at his bench than her own captains.

"Don't anyone let them make you angry," Genma commanded. "No matter what happens in the next minute, we played a good game, and no one should be ashamed of that-"

"Can it, Genma," Anko barked.

"You know you just say that cause you have to," Iruka added.

"None of us believe that crap," Yamato finished. "If we win, it's been a good game. If we tie, it's okay. If we lose, heaven forbid that anyone say a _word _about a good game."

"Guys-"

"But we _aren't going to lose_," Yugito stated firmly.

"Everyone has something left to give," Yugao continued. "They just need to make sure they give every bit of it."

"Guys-"

"Don't let them play their game again," Iruka said fiercely. "Lock down their every movement."

"Guys, time's up!" The buzzer rang to accentuate Genma's words; they skipped the usual team shout in favor of moving back to their positions -- eyes on the clock, minds on the game.

Except for one, that is.

_It's just like that last game in high-school_, Temari was thinking as she skated down to take up her position to the left of Baki for the face-off at their end. _Tied game, tired teams, someone I hate, and a motive. So_, she wondered, bracing her hands on her knees as she bent forward, _do I put him in the hospital or attempt to score? Which would be more satisfying?_

The question was answered for her thirty-five seconds later when Itachi and Hidan got past the Tanuki front line and head straight towards her, Itachi carrying the puck, Hidan moving across from him. _Two on two_, Temari thought vaguely as she skated backwards in front of them, eyes on Hidan. _I could take him out now, or-_

Itachi passed the puck to Hidan just as the center reached a spot fifteen feet from Temari. _Now's the time_, a voice inside her head muttered. _Now's the time to kill him-_

Before Hidan hardly knew what was happening, Temari was just in front of him, lashing out with her stick -- not at him, like he'd expected, but at the puck, dashing it away from him so that it slammed into the boards and bounced out onto the ice behind him, only to be picked up by Temari half a second later. The crowd gasped almost in unison -- no one expected any sort of delicate play from the usually hard-handed defenseman. But if they were surprised by that, they were struck dumb when she skated past both Akatsuki defenseman as if they weren't even there, keeping the puck on her stick through a series of fancy footwork. And when she faced up against the Akatsuki goalie -- not a hard shot, but an almost gentle tap through the five-hole when she was too close to change directions -- they screamed, half in celebration, since the puck bounced around inside the net as the ref blew his whistled and signified _goal_, half in shock that the person they knew as The Beast had actually _tapped _the puck in, and all because it been such a beautiful play that silence was unthinkable.

Fifteen seconds later, the regulation game was over. Of course, the mandatory over-time was played, but both teams were too worn out, and it changed nothing. The final score was a tied game of five to five.

The players lined up, shook hands, mouthed compliments that hid true intentions, and then headed for their locker-rooms. There was some celebration; there were also a few thrown sticks and gloves.

But one person, in particular, was fairly unaware of it all. Not because she had scored the game-tying goal, or because she'd bested a person who'd had the upper hand over her since the beginning. Not because she'd had some amazing revelation in those last few seconds in front of the wide-eyed Akatsuki goalie, or because she'd made her brothers proud, or because she'd replayed a good memory from a time when life wasn't so difficult.

No Temari, was happy by all this, but it wasn't what overjoyed her to the point of oblivion. No, that subliminal state was induced by the single blissful thought shimmering just behind her eyes, that one delightful truth that made every bit of her relax.

No church. No whatever-the-hell-he-called-church.

No church! No _church_, _no _church, _no church_! No-

"Hey, Blondie, I'll pick you up on Sunday morning, unless you want to fucking drive yourself."

Temari stopped dead just outside the locker room door, wet hair smelling fruity because she'd forgot her shampoo and had to use Yugao's, heavy hockey bag slung over her shoulder.

"…_what_?"

"Sun-day?" Hidan sneered. "It's the day some people go to church on?"

"But you didn't win!" Temari snapped as she spun around to face him, eyes suddenly wide, then narrowed, then wide again.

"Neither did you," Hidan pointed out with a grin as he combed wet hair back from his forehead.

"Then _neither _of us have to do anything!" she said desperately; Kankuro and Gaara came to a stop just behind her, Kankuro confused into silence while Gaara watched, a suspicion beginning to take form in his mind.

"No, both of us have to do it, Blondie," Hidan said with a painfully cheerful grin.

"…did you forget about the second half of your bet?" Temari asked, a single eyebrow raised as she attempted to pull her resolve back together.

"No," Hidan laughed. "But, I figured it's worth the trouble to see you squirm for a couple of hours. Call it revenge for that last play."

"…you're kidding me."

"Blondie, I don't fucking mess around, okay? I'm damn serious here."

_How weird does a person have to be to make that sort of connection?_ Temari wondered as she attempted to come up with some sort of logic that would make him forget the entire bet.

"Temari, is this guy bothering you?" Kankuro finally asked. "I mean, not that you need help or anything, but I could go get someone if you're tired…"

"Anyways," Hidan continued, ignoring her brother, "the way I see it, with my reputation, no mite team is going to want me to coach anyways. And honestly, I'm just trying to save your soul here. You could be a little more compliant."

"If you make me go to church," Temari stated, "I _swear _that I will find a team who would accept you as coach."

"Whatever, then," Hidan said with a laugh and a shrug. "It's not that bad."

Temari stared at him. He _was _serious -- as serious as he'd been when placing the bet in the first place. And if he was serious about it -- nay, enthusiastic…could he really be talking about church? Priests, sermons, pews, hymnals, _church_?

"…whatever," she finally said with a shrug. The only way to find out was to go.

"Alright," Hidan grinned. "Do you need a ride?"

Thrift-training kicked in; gas was almost five dollars a gallon.

"Sure."

"What's your address?"

"Shouldn't you already _know _that?" Temari asked icily, eyebrows narrowed as she glared at him.

"Why the hell would I already know your address, stupid?" Hidan growled back.

"Because you've been there before?" she snapped.

"…No. I haven't. Have you gone fucking crazy?" Hidan raised a genuinely confused eyebrow. "Is she always like this?" he asked, directing the question at Kankuro.

"Worse," the boy said, though it was more from his duty as a younger brother than actually meaning it.

"You must have a crappy memory," Temari sighed, shifting uncomfortably on her feet as the strap of her bag cut into her shoulder. "Remember? Your little _message_?"

"Blondie, your number is in the phone book. I didn't have to find your house to leave a message."

"You mean you didn't break into my house, go through my closet, and leave a note on my dresser telling me what to wear?" _Note the sarcasm_, Temari added to herself.

"What kind of a fucking pervert do you think I am?" Hidan snapped. "No, I didn't break into your damn house!"

"Someone broke in?" Kankuro asked, startled.

"…if you didn't…who did?" Temari wondered, suddenly confused.

"How the fuck would I know?" Hidan snapped. "Now what's your address?"

* * *

reviews would be awesome... :)


	4. Epilogue?

**A Friendly Wager: Epilogue?**

by **green see-through ghosts**

Warning: strong language...

* * *

She was nervous. For the third time in two days, Temari was hands-sweating-nervous, and it was all Hidan's fault.

Church. God, she hadn't been to church sine her mother's funeral. Even though it wasn't Hidan who'd requested the outfit, and she had no idea who had, she wore the knee-length black skirt and the red corduroy jacket. Because she had nothing else, she argued to herself.

She half expected him to be listening to some sort of death metal or hard-core rap when he pulled into her driveway, but the radio was silent; which, while making for an awkward drive, could have been worse.

It wasn't like Hidan was quiet for long anyways.

_Mumble, mumble_, Temari complained to herself as his lips moved almost silently. _He's ridiculous_.

Still, it wasn't till halfway through the traditional hymn service that Temari began to relax. And while the sermon was unorthodox -- she'd _thought _flagellation and self-punishment were a thing of the past, only to be proved wrong -- it was definitely nothing but a sermon. No odd orders or strange behavior around her. Nothing from Hidan, who seemed to be the most devout worshipper there by his reactions during the lecture.

And the oddest thing of all?

She was definitely the most scantily dressed female in the sanctuary.

_And here I thought I was being modest. _

"So?" Hidan asked as they stood from the pew after the last song, turning towards her with a grin on his face. "How about it?"

"How about what?" she asked warily.

"What do you fucking think?"

"Uh…"

"Not what you expected, hmmm?" Okay, he was definitely smug.

"I didn't say that," she muttered.

"You were expecting some sort of fucking cult, weren't you?" Hidan laughed.

"I'm still not sure that it wasn't."

"Whatever," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Let's go."

Strangely enough, Temari didn't feel like a bird escaping the cage as they left the front entrance of the church. It was a transition, of course, but not a bad one; more like stepping from the box out onto the ice, moving from a rest-stop onto the highway, going from study-hall to physics.

"So, same time next Sunday?" Hidan asked when he'd come to a stop behind her car in the driveway.

"I…maybe."

"Let me guess," Hidan sighed. "Would I have to fucking make another damn bet for you to agree?" He put the car in park and twisted the key in the ignition till the engine silenced. "Hell, when's our next game? If I win-"

"I said _maybe_," Temari snapped. "No more bets."

"Maybe," Hidan repeated. "Is that the fucking best I'll get from you?"

"For now," she confirmed.

They sat in silence for a long moment; then Hidan glanced over, eyes alit with amusement.

"I'll see you next Sunday, won't I?"

"…yeah. Probably."

"Same time, Blondie."

"Whatever."

--

_**Two and a half months later…**_

"Skate, you little wimps! I'm fucking serious! Stop walking, and start skating! You're _pathetic_! The puck is over there, you damn idiots! Left! _LEFT_!"

Temari watched with an ashen face and a frozen heart: she'd relegated these poor kids to _this_?

Then she saw the grins on the faces of the five year olds on the ice-rink, and the way Hidan was fighting a smile, and the way the parents simply shook their heads, amused. With a sigh of relief, she settled back into her bleacher, jamming her hands in the pockets of her hoodie as she watched Hidan's team's first game. The normally boring game was made nearly interesting with the antics performed by Hidan's team; for the first time in her entire life, Temari observed a penalty called on six year old.

In retrospect, she would have made him do ice-rink maintenance, or something where he wouldn't have had the chance to pervert these kids. But it was far too late for that, and sometimes, when Sunday service got a little boring, and Temari remembered the loads of work she needed to do or the extra practice she had that night, she made repeated that inward vow of never betting again.

But then again, Hidan hadn't tried to instigate anything for weeks now. She supposed, in retrospect, that he'd gotten his way. They hadn't lost the game, even if they hadn't won; he'd proved that his offense was decent; and he'd harassed her into relatively steady church-going. She wouldn't quite call him a friend; they annoyed each other too much for use of that term.

As he waved at her from the coaching box at the end of the third period, motioning her down towards the lower level, she wondered vaguely who had been the guilty culprit of the message scrawled on her dresser.

She guessed it had something to do with Hidan's captain, Pein, who'd sent him, of all people, down to harass her, of all people, for information. And maybe Shikamaru, who hadn't been nearly surprised enough when she'd told him about the bet. And maybe, just _maybe_, Baki, who was just weird enough to allow that last Akatsuki goal to get past him for no reason.

Why?

That's something Temari would never know.

_And I guess_, she thought as she approached Hidan from across the rink, _I'd rather not_.

* * *

The End. Reviews are wonders...


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